The Road to Perdition
by Latona Enelra Caine
Summary: Whouffaldi AU: Clara finds a man passed out on the side of the road and decides to help him get home. Doctor Smith has recently suffered a terrible loss and finds himself raising an infant by himself. With the help of Clara Oswald, he relearns how to live his life.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Before I continue posting for this story, I'll be revising the first two chapters and fleshing out the rest so that I will be able to consistently update. Since I am on break from classes right now, I might be able to make more progress in the coming weeks! Thanks to those of you who have sent encouraging reviews, your words are much appreciated.**

 _9th Doctors Theme-Murray Gold_

 **Chapter 1**

Clara still wasn't sure how it had happened. Her old truck had barely been able to cast a white glow across the pitch black road up ahead. So it came as a relief when a wild deer had abruptly thrown itself in her path. A relief because when she'd stepped out of her truck to check on the poor deer and the damage to the truck, she'd caught sight of a groaning, huddled figure illuminated by the warm headlights lying near a ditch.

Clara's breath caught in her throat when she realized how close she had come to hitting whatever it was that was lying on the side of the road instead of the deer.

"H-Hello?" Clara was afraid of approaching the crumpled heap, afraid that she might have not actually hit a deer at all and killed this person instead. The lack of reply worried her.

"Hello?" she called out again. Her voice carried across the nearby cornfield disturbing the eerie calm evening usually brought with it. Clara waited a beat, nearly jumping back in surprise when she heard a man's groan and watched as he turned to lie on his back.

His white shirt was stained crimson with blood and was mud splattered across his face and chest. A gash ran alongside his temple, still oozing ruby drops. Clara fought to restrain a gasp at the state he was in.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," the man wheezed loudly. He began gasping with heavy breaths.

Clara watched as he blearily gazed up at the sky, confusion etched across his face. He didn't look at her, nor even acknowledge the fact that she was standing right next to him. It seemed as if he was intent in just lying there for the rest of the night. Clara decided to make another attempt at making herself noticed once more.

"Are you alright?"

He started at her voice as if just realizing that she was standing right over him. His glassy eyes widened and his face contorted at the glare of the headlights above him.

"What?" he said in a brash, gravelly voice. He sounded annoyed at having been disturbed.

Clara rolled her eyes. _Great_ , _he'll be a bag of fun, this one._

She inched forward and knelt beside the him, the gravel crunching as she lowered herself to her knees. The overwhelming urge to gag seized her as a whiff of whiskey and blood engulfed the air around them.

"I asked if you're alright," she said again peering at him against the headlights. Clara coughed as the strong odor brushed against the back of her throat. She gripped the bumper of the truck to keep from falling on top of him.

The man's eyes flickered over face for a brief moment before sweeping back to the starry sky above them. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He was quiet for a long stretch of time so that Clara briefly considered that he might be too drunk to understand what she had just asked him. She half expected him to start babbling like all the other drunken idiots she had come across in Coal Hill Village. However his words were the last thing Clara expected to hear from him.

"Don't fucking care if I'm alright do I?"

 _Right then_ _someone is having a terrible night isn't he?_

Clara took in his torn trousers and scuffed boots, which seemed to have been very expensive at some point. His nails were clean and his face closely shaven. This man had to have a family somewhere out there looking for him. Or at least, she hoped that was the case.

"What's your name?"

He grunted. "Does it matter?"

"Actually it does, I nearly ran you over with my truck 'cos you're lying in a heap of your own filth in the middle of the road," Clara replied through gritted teeth, precariously close to losing her patience.

"What?"

Clara scoffed incredulously. "Haven't you noticed?"

"You nearly ran over me?"

"Yeah, had it not been for the deer-are you okay?" Clara asked in alarm as the man began pushing himself up to his knees and crawling on all fours to the embankment at the foot of the cornfield. He nearly fell when his hand slipped, and promptly began heaving his innards into the ditch.

Clara winced in sympathy and disgust, and walked over to him. She wrapped her arm around the front of his chest to keep him from falling head first, watching as he dry heaved for several agonizing minutes. Finally after a thin layer of sweat had broken down his back, Clara eased him back and propped him against her chest.

"Can you tell me your name?" she asked as a shudder ran down his body.

He gazed at her with tired eyes.

"Just call me the Doctor," he said quietly before passing out.

Clara groaned.

 _Fuck._

* * *

 **So how is it? Click that puppy down there and let me know!**


	2. Your Misfortune (None of My Own)

**Chapter 2**

 _ **Your Misfortune (None of My Own)-Thomas Newman**_

 **Several Hours Before:**

"Grab his arms, James, this fucker's about to have himself an accident," snarled a voice at his side. He heard a stupid giggle somewhere among them before realizing the idiot who was giggling was himself.

A pair of clammy hands grabbed him by the arms and roughly tugged them behind his back.

"Ay-get your grubby little hands off me you filthy urchin! Tha' shirt is worth more than your years wages!" he slurred angrily.

"He's got quite a mouth on him this one, don't he?"

One of them leered. "Maybe we can put it to use for more pleasurable purposes."

He struggled to see who it was that was holding him. What the hell had he even done to get himself into this situation?

The last thing he could recall was…No. No he didn't want to remember _that_. Best to just forget the whole ordeal-

"-Twat," the big oaf in front of him spat as his thick beefy fist dug into his stomach. His knees buckled, and the men made sure to grip his arms tightly between them.

A series of blows began to rain down upon him from every direction. He refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain. So instead, he took each punch with a restrained growl.

Someone grabbed a jack handle and struck him on the side of the head making his legs give out beneath him. With a grunt, he fell to the ground. The group of men took advantage of his fall and began kicking him. One of the men kicked him precariously close to his ancestral jewels. He felt the edges of his vision go fuzzy. The men's shouts began to echo in his ear, and before he knew it, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was flying through space with the stars.

* * *

Clara stared, dumbfounded at the situation she now found herself in.

She thought she'd rid herself of alcoholic men when she had moved out of her father's house years ago. When her mother was killed, Clara's father had sunk deep into the bottle. Linda's arrival had done nothing to improve his condition. After several years of enduring her step mothers cold nature Clara had finally reached her breaking point with her father's pitiful state. The day she received her acceptance letter to Coal Hill University, she packed her bags that very day, eager to leave the miserable house. It wasn't so much her father's alcoholism that she wished to escape, but rather her step mother's lecherous presence, taking up the space and home that had once belonged to Clara's mother, contaminating the air to the rooms she had once breathed life into.

Now, Clara found herself stuck with a complete stranger who she had nearly killed. She had only met the man twenty minutes ago, if one would call his incoherent mumbling a meeting, yet she felt a peculiar need to stay close to him and make sure that he was safe for the night. Clara debated with the idea of taking him to the Oswald Ranch for the night, but then decided against it when she remembered her Grans desperate attempts to set her up on a date with one of her book club friend's grandsons. The old woman was adamant on finding her a husband before she met her maker.

Clara shuddered at the thought and then turned to the so called _Doctor_.

At least if her Gran ever set eyes on _this_ particular target, his looks wouldn't be dissuading, unlike the last man. What was he doing out in the middle of nowhere? With these thoughts reeling in her mind, she began digging through his shirt and trouser pockets, giving him an apologetic look at invading his personal space. When she didn't find anything in his front trouser pockets, Clara reluctantly stuffed her hands down the back of his trousers and felt around.

 _Good Lord! The man has an ass!_ Clara cleared her throat as if that would chase her lewd thoughts away.

"Sorry about this old boy," she mumbled and felt around. Nothing. "Hmm." Clara leaned back and looked around her. "Ah!" she gave a cry of victory. There on the ground, Clara could make out the shape of a small wallet.

She reached over and grabbed it, frowning when she opened it. He'd obviously been mugged judging by the lack of money inside it. She rummaged through his cards, a library card, _several_ credit cards, some she had never even heard of, and then she finally caught sight of the Doctors sharps features in one of them.

Clara pulled it out. "Just call me _Doctor_ , eh? Mister…." she trailed off when she glanced down at the listed name and frowned. "Wow, your parents didn't really take the time to get creative about your name did they?"

His name simply read Doctor Smith M.D. So at least he wasn't completely out of his mind then, he _was_ a doctor. And a _Smith_ at that!

Clara whistled, impressed.

She had heard of the Smith family plenty of times before. They were an old family. The Smiths were known as the town recluses when she was growing up, since no one ever saw them out and about. Word out had always been that there weren't any Smith children to the eccentric Mr. Smith and his wife Rose, which was how kids had begun making the family a sort of myth among the history of the town. Obviously there had been at least one Smith boy in the family now that Clara was looking at his peaceful, sleeping face.

Many things had changed around here while she had been living up with her father and attended Coal Hill. The Doctor had probably debunked several of the stories she and her friends had made up during her childhood since he had come into the public eye as a man of medicine. Fortunately for him, she and the local kids used to make a game out of who could get closest to the Smith land on their way back home from school. The Smiths grand, blue colored farmhouse was said to be haunted by the ghosts who had died during the Time Wars. The family had always been revered by the towns' people for having lost so many of their men in the Battle of Gallifrey. It was a known fact among many that the war had nearly destroyed the families lineage.

Clara was snapped out of her thought when the Doctor let out a soft moan. Poor man…He was having a rough night, and by the looks of it his morning wasn't going to be any better either.

"Come on then you idiot, up you get!" Clara stood up and began pulling him up to a sitting position. She laughed in sympathy when he groaned at the movement. "You're gonna have to help get you on your feet, otherwise you'll be lying out here all night."

The Doctors stormy eyes fluttered slightly before shutting again. He moaned and lethargically moved his long limbs about.

Good. At least he could hear her.

"Alright, on three we're gonna pull you up."

A loud bark from the truck reminded Clara of her four legged passenger, Rowan. The lazy mutt cocked his head to the side and stared.

"Fat lot of help you are!" she called out to him and adjusted her grip on the tall lanky man. She scoffed in astonishment. Just her luck! He was almost all arms and legs!

"Alright Doc, one, two, three!" Clara tugged with all her might and breathed heavily but realized that the Doctors body wasn't budging. "Ugh-Doctor!"

The silver haired man, for his part, grunted.

"Honestly! You'd think that in your situation you would at the very least have the decency to be worried!" Clara said tartly as she grabbed the Doctor around the waist and began heaving him to his feet with tremendous effort.

"Christ!" Clara huffed, red faced and neck burning. "For such a skinny man you weigh a lot! You could stand to lose a few pounds!"

His head lolled to the side as he grunted in response.

Clara rolled her eyes at that and then began the task of dragging him towards her red, beat up truck. She nearly tripped several times with the Doctor practically crushing her. Twice-he came close to falling on top of her. She briefly considered just shoving the ungrateful bastard into the ditch again and driving home. She was able breath a sigh of relief when she finally managed to get the truck door open and propped him against the side, making sure to keep a steady hold of his shoulders so he wouldn't fall forward.

He didn't look that old now that Clara was able to seem him a bit more clearly. A bit worn out if anything. He almost had a youthful aura about him that made her want to find out more about him. Too bad he was too drunk. And passed out…again.

With a giggle, Clara dared to brush the side of his face, running her fingers through his cropped wavy hair. He seemed to lean into her touch with parted lips when she brushed his hair, but she told herself she was imagining things. Clara nearly jumped when she heard a whisper escape his thin lips.

"I am alone…" he breathed.

Clara leaned in closer to him so that she could almost feel the faint brush of his breaths. "What?" she whispered.

"I am….alone….the world….the joy has been sucked out of my…world. And I am alone." he drew in a shuddering breath. Clara felt her heart get stuck in her throat at his words. What had happened to him?

"Doctor are you alright?" she asked, hoping that he would regain consciousness. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I won't see them…"

"Won't see who? Doctor?"

"Never again…." She felt a chill run down her spine at his next words. "They're dead…."

Clara stood up with a frown. "I think you'll have one hell of a hangover come morning," she told him as she adjusted him in the seat and pulled the seat belt across his body. "Lucky for you," she clicked the buckle into place. "I know where the Smith estate is! See?" she smacked his chest. "It pays of to be nosy and bug the neighbors when you're a kid!" With that said, Clara shut the door and went to the driver's side.

Rowan watched all of this with intent eyes.

"Don't you judge me you lazy mutt," Clara narrowed her eyes accusingly at him. "You could have at least come out to lend some moral support!"

The Retriever blinked at her and then began panting happily before muzzling the new stranger sitting in his usual spot. Rowan gave a snort into the Doctors open mouth when his sniffing nose got a whiff of the booze reeking from it.

Clara grimaced in disgust. "Eww…doggy germs…" Her heart went out to the Doctor.

"He's been down in the dumps I think…" she told the dog, hoping he'd go easy on the poor man. She turned the key in the ignition. The old truck groaned and sputtered for a moment before trembling to life with a deafening roar. Burning motor oil and gasoline quickly filled the air around the cabin along with the booze making Clara's nose and throat burn.

"Here we go Doc," Clara said as the truck pulled back onto the dirt road towards the Smith's Tardis Manor.

* * *

 **Sorry for the long wait guys! Wrapping things up for my first year of college! Whoo! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and or followed! Really appreciate the feedback! Let me know what you guys think of this chapter and the song if you listened to it! If you guys see any mistakes let me know since I didn't have this edited by my pal, JackandSam. She's got real life duty right now...**


	3. Dying Soul

Chapter 3

 _ **Dying Soul by Antonio Pinto**_

The Doctor had been sitting on the floor of the living room playing a game with his granddaughter, Susan, when the phone in the kitchen rang. He stood up with a grunt.

"Stay right here sweetheart, Granddad's got to go get the phone, it might be mummy and daddy," he made his way to the kitchen and picked up the silver receiver. "This is the Doctor."

"Hey, Doc, it's Chief Pink."

"Hello, Chief Pink what can I do for you?" The Doctor replied dreading the man's answer. If he had to go out on call tonight he would have to get a sitter for Susan. He didn't know anyone who would be willing to care for a fussy baby at 11:30 in the evening, nor did he live close enough to anyone.

"Listen Doc, I've got some bad news…there's been an accident out here near the town…."

The Doctor's heart sunk. If he was trying to ease into it that could only mean one thing. He himself had used that tactic when speaking to the families of patients who hadn't made it off his operating table.

"Who?"

Danny tried to explain the situation before giving the heavy blow. "A loading craft was cruising down-"

"-Danny-who was it!"

There was a long pause.

"It's Rory and Amy. I'm sorry Doctor…"

He heard a loud ringing in his ear and saw the edges of his vision go fuzzy.

"No." He breathed.

* * *

The Smith-Tardis Estate was a twenty minute drive to and from Oswald Ranch. It was just down the road from where Clara and her Gran lived. She had planned to head straight to the ranch after a long day of selling produce and making harvesting negotiations for the year with the local vendors in town. Magellan people were completely stubborn when it came to the type of crops they wanted to buy. Lucky for the Oswald's, they had always been on good standing with the farmers and vendors for decades. It also helped that they knew how to grow the world's most popular Hybrid Peach.

Sarah Jane, Clara's great great-great aunt had figured out a way to cross an apple and a peach crop way back in the Twenty-first century. The Hybrid peach had thus emerged from Sarah Jane's creation. It had set the Oswald family up for life once a businessman from Kalabraxas City named Phsi had tasted the peach while vacationing in town. The Hybrid Peach had taken off like wild fire across the country. Because of this, Clara and her family now ran the biggest ranch in Magellan.

She had missed the town in spite of the sad memories tied to it. She'd missed the eccentric people and the nosy townsfolk…the extremely hot summers and freezing winters….so perhaps not everything about Magellan was great. Far from it. But for Clara it was above all else only one thing…it was home.

Clara shot a quick glance at the Doctor. He seemed as if he hadn't seen home in a very long time…

* * *

When they pulled up in front of the Smith estate Clara felt her heart drop to her stomach. There were two police cruisers parked in the long road leading up to the very front of the house, their red and blue lights flashing ominously in the dark. She glanced at her passenger who was snoring softly and wondered if she had just picked up a serial killer from the side of the road and driven him home straight to the police.

Clara turned the truck engine off leaving the headlights on to cast a white glow on the wraparound porch. She made her way out of the truck, letting Rowan jump out as well before slamming it shut. Clara could see that the blue ornate door to the house was wide open, the ground floors lights were on. For a brief moment, she thought that perhaps someone had dared to break into the Doctor's house while he was out on his drunken binge. She was snapped out of her musings when Chief Danny appeared in the doorway.

"Clara," Danny made his way down the porch steps towards her.

"Evening Sheriff Pink, what's going on?" Clara glanced inside the house and caught sight of a rather large living room. Sheriffs Longstride and Rigsy were sitting on one of the sofas huddled over something she couldn't quite make out.

"Eh…" Danny trailed off, frowning. "I'm afraid it's not good news . . . Sir Smith's daughter, Amy and her husband Rory were killed earlier today."

Clara pressed her hand against her mouth.

 _I am alone…._

"How?"

Danny shook his head. "It looks like there were driven off the road by a Dalek Corp loading craft. Their car crashed into a ditch and they both died on site," he told her. "We've been here all night since the Doc ran off though…"

"Ran off?"

"Well he was looking after his granddaughter, Susan for the weekend when I called to tell him the news…I came to see him after breaking the news to him." He winced. "Poor man was going completely mad and finally took off without his mobile, and we've not been able to find him since."

"He's in my truck!" Clara burst.

"What?"

"I nearly ran the bloody idiot over when he was passed out on the side of the road!" Clara realized how bad that sounded. She had nearly killed the man!

However Danny was already striding to the passenger door as Clara continued to explain.

"He was passed out near a ditch next to Langley's corn field."

Danny peered at the Doctor through the open window and gave a cry of relief. "Oh-thank God! He's alive!"

Danny opened the passenger door and began pulling him out of the truck with little to no effort. "Doc! We've had men searching all over town for you!" Danny told him as he steadied him on his feet, pulling his arm across his neck.

The Doctor was steadily gaining his bearings and gazed blearily at his surroundings. He winced when Danny steered him towards the trucks harsh light and groaned, deciding that it was best to just crack one eye open. He peered to the side and saw Danny.

"Who the fuck are you lad?" The Doctor grumbled.

"Why is there blood all over him?" Danny asked.

Clara took his other arm and did her best to help get the Doctor to the house. "I think he might have gotten into a bit of a scuffle before I got to him. His wallet is empty."

The Doctor moaned. "Who turned on the sun!"

Danny snorted. "Or maybe he spent all his money on Hyper Vodkas. He's gonna have a bad time come morning.

* * *

"So what's going to happen to the little one?" Clara asked after she and Danny had safely gotten the Doctor in bed.

Danny pulled the Doctors boots off and removed his leather belt from his trousers in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable.

"I'm not exactly sure as of right now. The nearest Children's Services is a six hour drive. Longstride, Rigsy and I can't exactly stay here all night. We might get called out again, it being Friday night and all, I need all hands on deck right now."

Clara nodded in understanding. She grabbed a wet cloth from the bowl she'd set on the nightstand and began wiping at the mud and crusted blood on his face.

Danny frowned. "I was thinking of maybe taking her to one of the neighbors, the Boatwright sisters since they're the closest family to the estate. It's only a fifteen minute drive from here to their place, or Madame Vastra and Jenny? They would be glad to have the lass for the night, I'm sure of it."

Clara worried her lip, eyes locked on the Doctor. She couldn't tell why, but she felt the odd urge to protect the man. Some sense of obligation to look after him and his granddaughter. She wanted to protect him from what she knew would be a raging storm of pain.

"I'll keep an eye on them," said Clara. She wrung out the cloth before wiping the last remnants of the blood and stood up.

Danny looked taken aback. "Will you really?"

"Sure." Clara shrugged as she watched the steady rise and fall of the Doctors chest. "I don't mind. It's not like it'll be hard, he'll be dead to the world for the next few hours. What are a few hours of watching over him and a baby?"

"Oh, thank you Clara! You don't know the time you've just saved me. It'll make things go a lot smoother."

"No problem." Clara smiled.

"I'll come back in the morning to check in on you, see how things are going," said Danny. "Meanwhile, I can look in on who mugged the Doc."

Clara nodded. "Yeah, what an awful night he's had." She studied the Doctor's face looking at the purple bruising beneath his left eye.

"I'll be off then, call me if you need anything. Goodnight."

Clara nodded. "Thanks, we'll be fine," she said without taking her eyes off the Doctor. He looked so vulnerable huddled in that massive bed of his. He still wore his dirty shirt and trousers, but he would need to take care of that himself in the morning.

She stood at the doorway to the room and listened as Danny's footsteps disappear down the hall.

"Well, Doctor," she said. "It's just you and me now. And your little one, who by the way, I must go check on," Clara told him as she grabbed a tartan blanket from the foot of the bed and threw it over him. "So you stay here and rest up." she said and ran her fingers through his silver hair before making her way out of the room.

The house was grand compared to most other places in Magellan. She could easily say it was one of the biggest houses in town. The ceilings were high with exposed rafters. Every now and then, Clara caught sight of some odd device lying on a side table or an old tomb sitting on a shelf, surrounded by notes covered in some type of odd scrawl. She nearly cried out in surprise when she ran into a skeleton standing at a corner of the hall. The place felt endless. At some point, Clara was certain she had gotten lost among the many rooms, but to her relief finally stumbled across the kitchen.

From there, Clara was able to easily find the living room. It was quite beautiful once she had a moment to take it all in. Breathtaking actually. A stone fireplace stood in the center surrounded by couches and armchairs. Mahogany shelves lined the walls, stuffed with books and more records than she had ever set eyes on. A large stereo and record player sat on a wooden stand. It was the perfect home for an old bachelor. The only thing missing was a flat screen. Clara wondered idly if he even owned one before walking over to the couch and peering down at the small bundle inside the Moses basket.

"Hello Sweetheart," Clara whispered. Susan Smith-Pond had the most beautiful green eyes Clara had ever seen. "Your grandpa is a bit 'round the bend right now. Though the terrific headache he'll have tomorrow will probably make him think twice about touching alcohol for a while."

Susan gazed at her with wide eyes and smiled.

"Oh, you take pleasure in other peoples pain do you?" Clara asked with raised brows. "We'll make a proper lady out of you yet! You'll be breaking hearts in no time." She tickled the baby's tummy, eliciting a giggle from her.

Clara set about changing Susan into whatever sleepwear she could find for her in the baby bag left on the couch. When Clara finally settled on the couch with her, a loud silence filled the room. Before long, Susan began to get fussy, and soon her whimpering and wails began to carry out across the living room.

Clara sighed, holding the baby close, thinking of the long night ahead. All the while, she wondered if perhaps Susan could feel what had happened to her parents.

* * *

 **I am a terrible person.**


End file.
